Chapter Sixteen
Claire was relieved when the food arrived, because this was turning into the most awkward lunch date of all time.
Okay, maybe not a date.
Was it a date?
She wasn’t sure anymore.
Despite the looks of longing they kept shooting each other over the tops of their menus, Nick was maintaining a healthy distance. He hadn’t grabbed her hand once. He hadn’t touched her lower back when they’d walked into the restaurant.
To think she’d been praying for him to drop his towel just a few moments earlier.
Claire knew that, no matter how long she lived, she would never forget the sight of a wet Nick, clutching his towel as if his life depended on it.
She also wouldn’t forget the impressive bulge underneath the towel.
So help her God, she’d been ready to fall to her knees and take him into her mouth, right there in his kitchen. She’d been fairly certain he would have been up for it.
But he’d walked away.
Enough with the X-rated thoughts. Eat your ginger tofu.
What must he think of her? First, she admitted there might be a chance she was using him for sex. Then she allowed him to accompany her as she delivered her dead husband’s clothes to a charity shop. It had to give him pause.
She was beginning to think she needed her head examined.
Then again, maybe she just needed more sex…
She knew they weren’t really relationship material, and she guessed Nick knew it too.
God, would he hate her for even suggesting they be official fuck buddies? Was there even such a thing?
Or was this her pathetic attempt at establishing something deeper?
Nonsense.
“Want some of my spicy beef?” asked Nick, holding a big serving spoon.
“Oh, yeah. I definitely want some of your spicy beef.”
Why did her voice sound so breathy? Shit.
He raised an eyebrow as he portioned out the food on her plate. “This is one of my favorite dishes. They use the perfect amount of spice.”
Dammit. Back in the friend zone.
Claire was starting to think it was time to lay all her cards on the table. Would he tell her to take a hike, that he was sick of being objectified?
There was only one way to find out. She opened her mouth to speak.
“I spoke to Louie,” he said. “He told me his date went well with Adele.”
“Yeah. Adele said the same thing. They’ve scheduled a second date.”
“Nice. Between you and me, I think Louie’s smitten.”
“Well, between you and me, Adele thinks he’s adorable. She’s always had a thing for guys who look like big teddy bears. Taking that and the foosball into consideration, I’m sure we’ll be getting wedding invitations soon.”
“A match made in heaven.”
Claire remembered the twinkle in Adele’s eyes as she’d told her about her night with Louie.
Her friend knew it was early days, but she’d still been excited.
She’d told Claire there was something special about the cameraman, that he’d treated her with such tenderness, and she was curious to see where it would go.
Plus, she’d said, Louie was ‘an incredible kisser.’
One date, and Adele had it all figured out.
Claire had been dancing around Nick for weeks and she still couldn’t get her act together.
Nick grew pensive. “Changing the topic, I want you to know I was really proud of you back there, at the charity shop. It couldn’t have been easy.”
“And thanks to your influence, I didn’t threaten any of the shop ladies with death or dismemberment.”
“The day is young.” He winked. “Here. Make sure you get a spring roll. These are the best ones in Toronto.”
They were talking about spring rolls now.
Claire’s bravado flagged.
It was so much easier when they were just having sex or talking about sex. Anything else smacked of commitments and the future. She needed to find a segue back into sex talk.
“You know,” he said between bites, “you continue to inspire me.”
She put down her fork. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re taking charge of your life. It makes me want to do the same thing.”
“How so?”
He frowned at his plate. “I miss doing gigs with my brothers. We used to get together and jam once a week, and then we’d play a couple of clubs. Nothing fancy, just places where they know us. But I miss it, and pretty soon, I won’t have a chance to do it anymore. At least, not for a while.”
“You could try it, and see how you feel.”
“I don’t know. It feels like ages since I even entered a bar.
I’d love to go and shoot the shit at one of our normal haunts.
I just can’t handle the thought that someone in the audience will shout out that hashtag when I’m up on stage.
Sometimes, I feel like that hashtag might follow me the rest of my life. ”
“I don’t know a lot about social media, Nick, but my guess is most people have already moved on to the next scandal. There’s a chance people have forgotten.”
“I guess so.”
“You have to do what makes you comfortable. But if you play clubs where you know most of the people, don’t you think they would support you? Even if someone did try to heckle you, my guess is the other people there would have your back.”
“You might be right. I’m tired of hiding from the world.” He looked up at her. “I appreciate you having my back.”
“Then it’s settled. Will you invite me the next time you have a gig?”
“Claire, you’ll be my guest of honor.”
She smiled. As they ate their meal, their conversation turned to family matters.
Nick told her that Michael and his wife were going to announce her pregnancy at a family dinner on Sunday night.
He was so excited for his brother, and for one wild moment, Claire wished she could be a part of those festivities. She liked the Zorns, all of them.
Nick most of all.
His eyes met hers. There was such longing in those depths, a need she felt deep in her soul.
She glanced at the remains of her lunch on the plate. She’d eaten well.
So why was she still hungry?
When she looked back up at Nick, he was still staring at her. Although he’d demolished three spring rolls, rice and veggies and the bulk of the spicy beef, he still looked hungry too.
His gaze dropped, lingering around her breasts.
“Nick…”
The waiter appeared with the bill. Claire reached for her purse, but Nick was already holding his credit card, ready to tap. “Let me. It’s the least I could do after barging in on you this morning.”
“Thank you.”
She waited while they finished the transaction. The waiter thanked Nick profusely for what must have been a generous tip, then walked away.
“You were saying?”
“Nick, I want to run something by you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“Back at your house, when you walked out in your towel—”
“Sorry about that. I just wanted to tell you about the ice maker.”
“Right. The ice maker. Anyway, I kind of thought we were having a moment.”
“I thought the same thing, but I didn’t want to take advantage, you know, because it was a rough day for you.”
“I appreciate that, but I want to be clear. You wouldn’t have been taking advantage of anyone. I wanted you. I still do.”
“I want you too. Dammit, Claire, every time I try to ignore it, I just can’t.”
“I know we’ve been having a good time,” she replied, lowering her voice, “and I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to sleep with other people now that you’re feeling more confident.”
He frowned, as if the idea of sleeping with others had never crossed his mind. “There’s no one else, Claire. Only you.”
His words started a chain reaction of nervous flutters in her belly. “Then maybe we should make our sexual relationship a bit more official.”
He leaned in. “What do you mean?”
“We’ll keep doing what we’re doing, but until you leave for Victoria, we’ll be exclusive. It just makes sense, you know. I mean, we spend all our time together anyway.”
“Exclusively…friends with benefits.”
She nodded. “And after that, a clean break.”
“You’d be okay with that? We’d have to keep our emotions separate. Wouldn’t that be hard?”
“I’ve been keeping my emotions at bay for three years. I think I can manage a little longer. I just want some fun right now, and I happen to have a lot of fun with you. I think we could both use that, don’t you?”
Nick was quiet for a few seconds, clearly considering her offer. He then stood and held out his hand. “I’m in the mood for some fun right now. How about you, friend?”
* * * *
They were silent as they walked back to Nick’s car, silent on the ride back to his house, and silent as he parked in his driveway. For a few seconds, they sat there, both of them staring forward.
Claire still couldn’t believe she’d suggested they be friends with benefits. She’d never done that before, not with any of her partners.
There was a certain freedom to voicing her needs, but also a measure of terror.
Nick gripped the steering wheel. “You sure this is what you want?”
“Yeah.”
He turned to her then and unlatched his seatbelt.
He ran a finger along her hairline, smoothing it over her cheekbone and down toward her cleavage.
He hooked a finger in her shirt collar, his eyes lit with fire, and drew her closer to him.
When they kissed, it was on a shattered breath.
Mere seconds passed before Claire needed air.
He allowed her to snatch at it but then plunged his tongue back into her mouth.
It was the sort of kiss to steam up a car.
A couple of minutes, and they wouldn’t be able to see out of the windows.
When he ended the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers. “No emotions?”
“No emotions.”
He gazed at her, his jaw clenched. “Okay, then.”
Claire unlatched her seatbelt and followed him. As soon as he closed and locked the door, their bodies took over. Claire couldn’t even remember taking the first step toward him. Yet again, her body just sailed in his direction.
Judging from the intensity of his kiss, he was dealing with the same hypnotic need. Nick kissed her like someone who’d been denied sugar for a lifetime, and who’d just got his first transformative taste.
“Christ,” he muttered, “I feel drunk.”
“You feel it too?”